“Let’s go get some food,” he says, pulling me from my doubts and fears.
A large tub of popcorn full of extra butter and salt, just the way I like it, sits between us. I reach over and dip my hand into it, pulling out a handful, popping the morsels into my mouth.Rise of the Planet of the Apesis playing on a standing screen made of wood painted white behind an old house that serves as the drive-in. We sit in Mike’s truck with the windows cracked. It’s in the fifties, so I’m glad I brought my hoodie.
“I think popcorn should be a food group,” I say. “Seriously, it’s like the perfect food.”
“Perfect for a heart attack with the amount of butter and salt you requested,” Mike retorts.
“Pfft, you have no respect for the food of the gods. The popcorn god, Popicornius, is going to come down and smite thee.”
Mike snorts a laugh and takes a handful of the buttery goodness, shoving them in his mouth. “He can try,” he says with his mouth full.
As much as I like our banter, my mind is solely focused on Mike’s proximity. I’m horny again, and I want to touch him, but I’m not sure how far he’s ready to take it. But I’d take a good make-out session.
I lick my fingers clean of salt and butter and clean them on a cheap napkin. Then I grab my soda and take a long pull from the straw. I’ve completely lost interest in the movie. The apes can do whatever the fuck they want for all I care. All I can think about is making out with Mike. If that’s all I get from him for the rest of my life, so be it. I’ll still die a happy man, either way.
Mike starts gnawing on aTwizzler, seemingly more engrossed in the movie than I am. I take the bucket of popcorn and move it to the back seat.
“Hey, I was eating that,” he huffs.
I roll my eyes and grin, but I say nothing when I climb over the console dividing us and straddle his lap. There’s enough room becausehis legs are long as fuck, and the seat is as far back as it will go. Still, the steering wheel digs into my lower back.
His eyes go wide, his arms resting at his sides, as if trying to figure out what I’m going to do, or where to put his hands. I tug on theTwizzlerbetween his teeth and pull it out before popping it into my mouth.
“Hey…” he huffs again, but there’s only humor dancing in his eyes.
“Sharing is caring.”
“Is this your way of seducing me, Den?”
I chew and swallow the candy before inching closer. “Is it working?”
His smile turns crooked, and his hands move up to rest on my hips, fingers digging gently into me, his face inching closer to mine. “Not sure it’ll take much effort.”
“You’re easy. Ilikeit.”
I don’t know what possesses me to lift his hand and raise it to my mouth. His eyes track the movement so intently and curiously, then they blow wide when I suck on his index finger, licking off the salty butter. His cock instantly hardens, swelling against my ass. I shudder, fantasizing that we’re naked and he’s about to fuck me, and I grow hard in response.
Mike doesn’t stop me when I lick his middle finger and move on to the rest, ending at the thumb, suckling it. This is so unlike me, but he does things to me when we’re close. If he’ll let me, Iwantto be a little naughty.
“Jesus, Den…”
I pull out his thumb with a pop. “Too much?”
He slowly shakes his head, and his voice is low and husky. “No.”
I place one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, pulling him closer to me, needing to kiss him as if my life depends on it. My fingers are still buttery, but I can’t be bothered to care. I brush my lips againsthis, then swipe my tongue across, buttery salt and sugar bursting in my mouth. I love this flavor on him.
Mike’s hands slip under the hem of my T-shirt and hoodie, and slide up my back, eager fingers kneading the muscle. Even though we’re still dressed, his touching my skin sends waves of goosebumps over me.
The movie is long forgotten. It wasn’t that interesting anyway. Mike iswaymore interesting than any movie.
I roll my hips, grazing over his hard cock, pulling a groan from him, which I swallow. I can’t help myself, with how attuned my body is to his, like we were always meant to be like this, to touch like this.
We pull away, panting, resting our foreheads against each other.
“I…” The words don’t come out. I want to ask him if I can touch him, but I’m afraid he’s not ready for that. But how am I to know if I don’t ask? With a deep breath and a flaming face, I take the plunge. “I want to touch you. I have this need to make you come… I fuckingneedto see it.”
“Oh, shit…”
